


Baby Steps

by GarlicBreadforJuliusCaesar



Series: all that we love deeply (becomes a part of us) [1]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Amy Santiago Bashing, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheddar & Jake Peralta Friendship, Daddy Issues, Father Figure Kevin Cozner, Father Figure Ray Holt, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Jake Peralta Needs a Hug, Kevin Cozner/Ray Holt Feels, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Roger Peralta Bashing, Roger Peralta is the Worst, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21924043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarlicBreadforJuliusCaesar/pseuds/GarlicBreadforJuliusCaesar
Summary: How Jake came to be a part of the Holt-Cozner household.
Relationships: Kevin Cozner & Jake Peralta, Kevin Cozner & Ray Holt & Jake Peralta, Kevin Cozner/Ray Holt, Ray Holt & Jake Peralta
Series: all that we love deeply (becomes a part of us) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579006
Comments: 231
Kudos: 585





	1. in which Captain Holt worries about Jake

Captain Raymond Holt was not fond of time-wasting. Efficiency, in Holt’s opinion, is the most valuable skill in the workplace. The thought of idling around the precinct when there was work to be done was distasteful, but it couldn’t be helped. His watch told him it was past seven, past the end of his shift, but he was not ready to leave yet. It was CompStat day after all, and he was determined to stay until the last case file was closed. Jake was burning the mid-evening oil, putting the finishing touches on an aggravated assault he’d been working on. He wanted to be sure it was logged with this month’s cases to try a beat the precinct record, or so he told everyone. Holt had his own suspicions, mainly focussed around Jake wanting an excuse to miss having drinks with the squad after work, but he wasn’t planning on sharing those. So he waited.

As he watched, he found himself reminiscing. Much had changed in the ninety-ninth precinct in the last thirty-eight months. Scanning the bullpen, he recalled the threat that Wuntch had used to manipulate him as she forced him into the public relations office - one where his detective squad was destroyed, one transfer at a time. He had fought to ensure that that nightmare stayed in the realms of imagination where it belonged; only now, it had come to be.

It has started with Amy. She and Jake fell out, irreparably. They were unable to fix their problems before she received an offer she couldn’t turn down in Boston. Their relationship strained under the pressure of long distance, and the problem grew. Simply put, Amy wanted children, Jake did not.

In Boston, Amy found someone who did. Teddy Wells had also transferred, and they found what they were missing in each other. The divorce papers arrived in May, three days before Jake and Amy’s third anniversary. No one expected that. No one knew how to talk about it either. That night at the bar, Jake tried to drown his pain with alcoholic beverages of all varieties. Holt had never seen him so drunk.

It was too soon when in August, Terry published his debut fantasy novel. It gained reasonable success, and he was soon signing contracts with publishers for a second and then a third. He realised he was ready for a slower pace in life, wanting more time between writing to enjoy his family.

The notice for his retirement was enough to plan a surprise party, but not enough to make it any easier. It took Jake and Charles a full week to find an ice-cream store willing to make a frozen yoghurt cake shaped like a police badge, but the look on the Sergeant’s face had been worth it. The departure was bittersweet, much like the cake.

It wasn’t long before Charles and Genevieve adopted twin girls from Ukraine - Nastya and Olena. It was exciting, especially for Nikolaj; he wanted nothing more than to be a big brother. But, the adoption process was long. It took the Boyles out of the country for weeks at a time before they could bring the girls home. Charles didn’t mind. He finally had the big family he’d always wanted. The addition of the girls to his life made him realise that he was ready to be a Daddy full-time. He followed in the Sergeant’s footsteps and retired from the force for good.

The announcement broke Jake. They went to Shaw’s that night for drinks, and Holt saw Jake get drunker still than he had after Amy. It reminded him of the night they cancelled _Bunheads,_ except it was Charles comforting Jake, instead of the other way around.

Eight months passed. The squad stayed intact for a while, stabilising after the loss of friends and family. It felt, finally, as if they had gone back to normal. There were morning briefings, cases, and shenanigans. It was good.

Then Rosa transferred to Organised Crime. The paperwork came across his desk a mere two weeks before she left. Holt wondered if this is what it felt like to lose a child. The final words Jake and Rosa shared in the bullpen still haunted him.

_“I’ll never forget you.”_

_“‘Course you will. You’ve got the memory of a goldfish. If you don't see me every day, you’ll forget I exist.”_

_“I won’t. A thousand push-ups.”_

Holt found it hard to come to work after that. The precinct wasn’t the same. The department promised to transfer in some new officers soon, but he knew they couldn’t take the place of those they had lost. No one really heard from Rosa, but that was normal. Jocelyn sent updates periodically.

And finally, Hitchcock and Scully. All the changes had become too much; the house mouses were ready to move on. A series of incredible events led to them becoming franchisees of the Marine Park _Wing Slutz,_ leaving their favourite waitress to run it. Last anyone heard, they were doing quite well for themselves, and were working with other stores to introduce a new, lobster-based dish called _Busty Crustacean_.

For their retirement party, they did nothing but get hotdogs from the food truck outside and nap on the couch. After all the fuss the others had caused, they wanted to leave exactly as they came - lazily. Hazmat removed their desks for destruction the next day. It was funny and heartbreaking all at once.

Sudden as it felt, hindsight left Holt wishing it had happened faster so it could be behind him more quickly. The old guard was gone, save for Jake, and the new guard paled in comparison. The teamwork he had admired in his squad was gone. The new officers had many problems. Their work ethic was poor, their paperwork sloppy, and their dress code lax. They had no boundaries, and they treated Jake like a celebrity, harassing him each day about his most legendary solves. Once upon a time, he would have loved that.

In all of this, nothing had changed more than Jake. Each event broke him down a little more. He was more sober and quieter. He was still Jake, who uses inane made-up words and sweats orange soda, just more reserved. He had less debt, owns his apartment and a collection of sensible sweaters. His hair, once kept close to his scalp, had been allowed to grow down past his jaw and was getting caught in his beard. He kept to himself, worked overtime almost every day, and continued to be badass and glorified by the squad. But there was something wrong.

Holt was worried about him and had been for some time. He wanted nothing more than to have the old Jake back but was scared that the notion was now impossible.

He was brought back from his musings by the sound of Jake’s chair rolling out from his desk. He had finished his report. He brought it in to Holt’s office, dropping it onto the mountainous pile of finished cases that already sat there.

“Thank you, Peralta.” Holt nodded, flipping through it.

“You’re welcome, Cap’n.” saluted Jake, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“And I you.”

They stood in awkward silence. Jake seemed as though he were waiting for something. Holt wasn't sure what. He tilted his head ever so slightly, expectantly.

Jake sighed, gesturing the report. “Did I misuse the semicolon or something, Captain?”

Holt shook his head. The semicolon was perfect. “I was just wondering if you were alright?”

“I squirtenly am.” he smiled.

He was clearly not alright, squirtenly not. Holt didn’t know what to say.

“Okay. Then you’re dismissed, Detective. Get some sleep.”

Jake left with a wave over his shoulder.

Holt was worried, now more than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is very self-indulgent, and it's been in the works for a while now before I finally sat down and wrote it. 
> 
> I love Amy Santiago, but for the purpose of this fic, she had to go.
> 
> Comment, kudos, subscribe if you like, and stay tuned for the next chapter!


	2. in which Holt and Kevin worry about Jake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holt brings his work life home with him, and Kevin joins in worrying about Jake.

Holt drove home with a car full of anxious silence. He turned the conversation he and Jake had shared over in his mind. It should have been different. He should have called him on his lie, made him talk about his feelings. He shouldn’t have dismissed him so quickly. He should have invited him to dinner, given him some company, made sure he was safe. He couldn’t change the past, but the thoughts would not leave him.

A time or two, he considered driving to Jake’s apartment to check on him. It was an absurd idea: Jake’s apartment was a forty-six minute drive from his own, and he was already seventeen minutes from the precinct. If he made that detour now, Kevin might worry. He stayed the course, pulling into his own garage shortly after.

He could smell rice as he stepped through the door, hanging his coat and removing his shoes. He called out to his husband; Kevin’s head leant out around the doorframe, offering a subdued smile.

“Raymond,” he spoke warmly.

He had cooked dinner, a bowl of rich sticky pork, for them. It had been plated with care and set down on a table for two. It was caring and intimate, Kevin’s way of telling Raymond that he loved him deeply. 

Some of the stress of the day left him. He leant in for a kiss, which his husband gleefully returned. They stayed connected for a while until Kevin tapped his shoulder and protested that their meals would get cold if they didn’t attend to them soon. Feeling a sense of mischief, Raymond chased him for one last kiss before sitting down to eat.

They talk about work without _really_ talking about it. Kevin doesn’t mention the students who were arrested at the rock music concert over the weekend, and Raymond doesn’t mention the admonishment he’d had to give Detective Deetmore about his lack of appropriate footwear. Raymond wonders, not for the first time, if they should talk about these things. He doesn’t mention it; the No Shoptalk policy has saved their marriage more times than he cares to remember. Across the table, Kevin comes to the same conclusion. They never mention it.

They talk instead about the updated electronic mark book and its slightly generous averaging algorithm - Kevin still believes that rounding a seventy-eight-point-eight up to an eighty is not quite right. Kevin also mentions that he has run all the numbers by hand to ensure accuracy. They talk in-depth about the grades in comparison to the previous semester.

They stay on the topic of numbers, and Raymond regales him with a series of dry statistics from the CompStat earlier in the day. He expressed surprise at the increasing auto theft numbers in the precinct. Kevin chuckles as he implies that Doug Judy must be in town.

They talk about the proposed reassignment of reserved parking spaces in the nine-nine's garage. Raymond is pleased to be given a space that allows Sexarella a little more space but would prefer to have the motorcycle parking further from the automatic doors to save them replacing the sensor batteries four times a year.

The conversation runs dry as Raymond remembers Jake. 

Kevin can tell something is wrong.

“Is it Jacob?” he pressed, collecting their bowls.

“Yes.” And Holt relays his concerns about the boy, ending in their conversation just before they both left. Kevin prepared to make tea for them both.

“- I should have said _‘Cowabunga, Jake!’_ and made him speak to me.” he sighed.

Kevin smiled sadly, handing him a mug. “Raymond, you are not a ‘Cowabunga’ person. Jake knows that.”

“Well, I should have become one.” he sipped his tea, “Because that’s what he needed.”

He knows its not quite true, and Kevin beats him to the fact. 

“What Jake needed was someone to stay when things go wrong.”

Holt felt, all at once, worse than he had before.

“I wasn’t that either, Kevin.”

He knows it’s also not quite true, but it’s true enough to hurt. Neither of them can find a response, save for reaching out to hold hands and feel a little more connected. It’s dramatic for them, but it helps. 

Kevin clears his throat, “There isn’t much we can do about that. Not unless he asks us to.”

Raymond nods and sighs. He wishes there was a different answer.

“Until then, just keep being his friend.” continues Kevin, “Heaven knows, he needs more of those.”

He turns that thought over in his mind. It seems to be the right solution, but he can’t help but doubt himself. He lacks many of what you might consider ‘friendly qualities.’

“I’m not certain I can be a good friend.” Raymond sips his tea. “I’ve never been much of a friend to anyone.”

Kevin laughs warmly, “You’re my best friend, Ray,”

And Raymond can’t help himself, leaning in for another kiss. Neither of them mind. 

He feels much better as he clears away the mugs and spoons from their tea. They do the dishes together, bumping elbows and wrists as Kevin bustles around putting dishes back into the cabinets, and cutlery into the drawers. They try not to think about Jake anymore. It doesn’t work. 

“I’m just so worried about him,” whispers Raymond, emptying the sink. 

“I know.” Kevin rubs his shoulder. He sighs, “so am I.”

Somewhere in Brooklyn, Jake was alone and hurting. They both knew it, could both feel the sadness of it wash over them. But neither knew how to change it.

It had begun to rain outside, heavy enough for Kevin to worry about his radish seedlings on the back porch. He rushed out to move them into the garage as Raymond went to the laundry to close the windows. 

If he had been a romantic poet, he may have waxed lyrical about the weather mirroring their emotions. In reality, the meteorologists on the news had been predicting a big storm for the last three days. It still felt fitting, though.

They sat in the living room for a while, keeping each other company. It was the perfect night devour a few chapters of a good book about Renaissance art. Kevin was grading papers, scoffing, and periodically reading aloud a section of stupidity from his worse students.

The rain outside got heavier, and Kevin went to lock Cheddar's dog door, so he didn't get caught in it. Cheddar appeared unfazed.

Kevin completed his grading and moved on to reading his most recent _New Yorker._ The rain beat down, the evening wore on, and all was calm in the Holt-Cozner household. 

Raymond had just started a riveting chapter on Caravaggio when the doorbell rang. He and Kevin shared a look. It was half-past-ten, and neither of them had been expecting anyone. He rose to answer it. Kevin came to the door, also.

Pulling the door open, Raymond was taken aback. Standing on the stoop, soaked from head to toe, was Jake. He was dressed as if he’d come from somewhere important, still wearing his tie and navy-blue wool coat. He looked a little shocked and a lot guilty.

“Jake?”

The man fumbled for words, “Uh, hi.”

He looked haunted, eyes red-rimmed, coat dripping into pools on the doormat. Raymond said the only thing he could think of.

“What are you doing here at so late an hour?” he asked.

Jake looked around, blushing with embarrassment. He looked at many points as if he was going to say something but never did. Eventually, he looked up at Raymond.

“Sorry,” he croaked. Then he burst into tears.

No one spoke. They all just stood there too shocked to say anything.

If Raymond and Kevin hadn’t have been worried before, they would have been now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the angst train! Choo-choo!
> 
> The next chapter will include: all this angst and more!
> 
> But don't worry, there will be soon fluff soon. 
> 
> Comment, kudos, subscribe, all the good stuff, and thanks for stopping by!


	3. in which Roger Peralta is a jerk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake breaks down after an argument with his dad.

Kevin moves first. He guides Jake in, closing the door, and walking him towards the laundry. Jake follows, arms crossed, and held tight to his chest, breathing harshly. He drips water onto the floorboards with every shudder. Raymond is reminded in small ways of a wet puppy coming in from outside.

He moves as if to follow them, but thinks twice. He could be practical elsewhere. He jogs up the stairs to their linen closet, pulling out two towels - one to dry off Jake, and one to dry off the floor. He compares their softness, an act that makes him chuckle, and decides on the blue one for Jake. The man could use something soft and warm. He hangs it in front of the heater in the upstairs hall while he searches for a change of clothes.

The guest room closet is his first stop. He rummages through the shelves until he finds a set of pyjamas he recognises. They’re navy blue and maroon stripes, fleece-lined and gentle on the skin; more importantly, they are the exact pair Jake borrowed last time he was here. To him, the continuity was calming, even though the others may not notice the gesture. He bundled them up in the towel and carried it down to the laundry.

Jake was still dressed in his wet clothes - save for his overcoat, which Kevin was holding over the sink. He looked more embarrassed than when he had arrived, and he was protesting awfully.

“It’s really fine. My car has a heater. I’ll be dry before I even get home.”

He reached for his coat, but Kevin was too quick, shielding it with his body.

“Nonsense,” he parried, “You’re not going out in this storm, and that’s final.”

“I don’t want to bother you.” Jake tried.

Kevin began to wring out the coat. “I’m sure it’s no trouble.”

“I should leave.”

And he made to do just that. He bumped into Raymond, who was blocking the entryway. They shared a look.

“Captain.” pressed Jake, moving to go around him again.

“No.” He placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Not in this weather. We can’t afford to lose you.”

Jake heaved a breath. His face contorted as he tried, once more, not to cry.

“You can’t say stuff like that!” he whimpered.

He fought for a moment to regain his composure. It was vaguely successful, and he looked up into Raymond’s eyes with some strength. He turned his head and spoke over his shoulder to Kevin.

“You’re sure I can stay?”

Kevin placed a hand on his other shoulder. “Of course. You came all this way.”

“Okay.” he ceded.

Raymond handed him the towel and the pyjamas, promising to find him some slippers while he got dressed. Kevin loaded his coat and other wet clothes into the washing machine to spin, and they left to wait for him in the living room.

Jake emerged looking less wet, and a little more settled. He did still avoid eye contact and made no move to speak. He just stood inside the doorway, expectant.

“Would you like to sit?” Kevin offered, “I was just putting the kettle on for Raymond and myself.”

It was a devious fib, but Raymond made no move to correct him. Tea would do them all some good.

“Raymond and I will have herbal, and do you have a preference, Jake?”

Jake spoke after a moment. “Do you have that orange tea you gave me for Christmas?”

“Excellent choice.” he smiled. “Please excuse me.”

And he left. Raymond turned his attention to Jake, who was watching Cheddar stretch out in front of the fire.

“Are you alright?” he offered.

Jake gave him an indecipherable look. “I’m sorry I came. I should’ve gone home.” He scrubbed a hand up and down his face.

“Well, you’re here now. Might as well make the most of it.” Raymond said. Jake laughed at that.

“You always know what to say.” he mused, “I suppose I didn’t want to be alone after-” his voice broke, “-what happened.”

Kevin returned with a tray full of tea and a plate of cookies. They all took their mugs, Jake taking a hearty sip to hide his emotions.

“What _did_ happen?” asked Raymond.

Steeling himself with a breath, Jake began to speak. “Y’know Roger Peralta, my dad?”

They nodded.

“Well, he was in town, and wanted to meet me for dinner before his flight. So, I was waiting outside the restaurant - where he _did not_ make a reservation, which is crazy, ‘cause it’s a Friday night, you’ve gotta book - and he was like, forty-five minutes late. And it was pouring with rain, so I texted him, and he didn’t respond, because he’s the worst texter ever.

“I waited for another ten minutes or so, when he texts me, telling me to just come straight to the airport. Which, okay whatever, but also, I’ve been standing in the rain and you couldn’t even try to make it? So I go to the airport and meet him at his gate, and we grabbed a coffee from the kiosk, and he tells me that he has some ‘exciting news.’”

Jake puts ‘exciting news’ in air quotes, pulling a face that Raymond recognises as being unimpressed. He can see that his detective is starting to get angry.

“It turns out, he’d moving to California to live with his new girlfriend, who is this yoga instructor _slash_ influencer who is a _third of his age_! This was supposed to be his last day in town, and he wanted to see me one last time before he left. Which is crazy, right? Because he’s only known her for five weeks and before that he was talking about retiring and living in Brooklyn.”

Kevin pieces together the story and asks, “Why is he moving now, and so suddenly.”

Jake pointed his finger dramatically at Kevin, “That’s what I said! And you’ll never believe this - well, you probably will because it’s _my dad_ and this is totally on-brand for him. He got her pregnant with triplets!

“I was pretty shocked, so I asked him if he was thinking this through, because California is a big move and he hardly knows her, and he loses it!”

Jake is barely breathing at this point, speaking in a fast and aggressive manner that Raymond has never seen before.

“He starts going on about how I should be ‘happy for him’ and ‘more supportive’ and how this is ‘none of my business’ and all that. Meanwhile, I’m just trying to work out what’s going on. So I say ‘Hey man, what’s going on?’ and you know what he says?”

Jake pauses a moment. The anger fades, replaced with glassy eyes.

“He says ‘Jake, I’m going to be a father. This is what I’ve always wanted.’”

It feels like a stab to Raymond. He wonders how it must feel to Jake. He moves to speak, but Jake isn’t finished and cuts him off.

“- and I say ‘You _are_ a dad! You’re my dad.’ and he says ‘It’s not the same. I wasn’t trying to be that for you.’ And I didn’t know what to say, and he said ‘I thought you’d be happy for me. I’m finally going to be a father!” and I said, ‘What about you’re five other kids?’ and he said, ‘You’re missing the point.’ And I don’t see how I was, because he’s just being crazy, he _is a father_ , what’s different about these kids? But then-” he takes a breath, “-he starts going on about how I should come and meet them and how I could be ‘Uncle Jake’ and it’s like, _‘I’m you’re son, why would I be an uncle to your kids?’_ and I say that and he just gets angry and I -”

Jake has tears on his cheeks as he whispers, “- I just wanted a dad.”

“Oh, Jacob,” says Raymond, reaching over to him.

They are all crying as Jake tries to explain how Roger Peralta continued to make it worse, all but disowning Jake with the phrase ‘You turned out just fine without me, why would you need me now?’ It is a slow process to coax the rest of the story out of him, but in the end, they find out the Roger had decided that his adult children don’t count because he didn’t want them and has started a new family that they are welcome to join if they lie and pretend to be his friends instead of his children.

Raymond wishes he could have been of more help, but there was nothing he could say. Jake had been orphaned by the last family member he had. There was no fixing that.

Jake cries himself to exhaustion, and heads off to bed, leaving Holt and Kevin to worry about what might happen next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's one more chapter for the lovely folks who have been following his story. The narrative is starting to get under way, finally!
> 
> Comment, kudos, subscribe and buy some more tissues!


	4. in which Jake stays the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake stays over, Raymond and Kevin worry, and Cheddar makes a friend.

They stand in the kitchen, whispering. They aren’t sure they handled that situation at all well, having little experiences with big emotional displays. Jake described it as an ‘emotional rollercoaster’, and Raymond decides once and for all that he is _not fond_ of the theme park rides.

It’s late, and they are exhausted, yet neither of them can fathom going to bed just yet. They just stand, trying to come up with solutions to all of Jake’s problems. They know they can’t do that, not now, maybe not ever. It doesn’t stop them.

“There has to be something.” sighs Kevin for the third time.

In reality, there doesn’t have to be something they can do. Life is cruel, and maybe this is meant to fall apart. It’s counterproductive to mention that.

“I’ll confess,” says Raymond, taking his husband’s hand, “I’ve never been sure of how to help him.”

Kevin squeezes his hand. “We’ll find something.”

There is an unspoken _‘hopefully’_ on the end of that sentence, but they successfully ignore it as they ascend the stairs to bed. They resolve to deal with it in the morning.

Except, it’s clear it won’t be that simple. The thoughts creep back in as Raymond brushes his teeth. He has to help Jake, doesn’t know what he would do if he lost the only thing he has left from his first command. He tries, again, to leave it until the morning.

But, as he lays down to sleep, he hears the echoes of Jake’s cries in the back of his mind. _I just wanted a dad._ How could someone hurt this beautiful boy? He would sooner die.

He tries, and fails, to think of a solution. He can’t give half of the things Jake has lost, not in the ways he needs them. He can’t _be_ Roger Peralta. He’s not what Jake needs. Still, he spends a few hours trying to work out how to become that before his exhaustion takes over.

Kevin wakes in the early hours. He gets up with the sole intention of getting a glass of water. It wasn’t that simple.

He enters the kitchen to find that Cheddar’s bed is empty. He begins to worry furiously, because his door has been locked for hours, and even though the storm has now passed, he could have been hurt. He realises, too late to preempt the panic, that he made sure Cheddar was inside _before_ he locked the door.

It still begs the question of his whereabouts. He tries not to get ahead of himself, beginning a thorough sweep of the house. It is rare to find him out of bed, but perhaps the storm had bothered the dog.

The first floor is clear. Kevin isn’t concerned, climbing the steps.

And then he sees him, little hash-browned coloured butt sticking out from under the quilt on Jake’s bed. He’s curled up to Jake’s chest, snuggling close. They breathe in unison, two soft boys happily asleep.

Kevin is only a man, so he watches them for a while. It’s been some time since he’d seen Jake asleep; there hadn’t been any need for it since the safe house. He’d forgotten how peaceful he looked, and how he seemed to escape the covers even on the coldest nights.

It isn’t long before his thoughts bring him back to worry. He is worried for Jake, terribly so. He can’t think of a single thing he could do that might help, and he hates the feeling of powerlessness it stirs up. He had grown so fond of Jake in their months together, the thought of losing him was too much to consider.

And leaning around, he peers into his and Raymond’s room to watch his sleeping husband. By extension of being worried about Jake, he’s worried about Raymond. He had suffered much the same as Jake had, if a little more distant. They are all each other has left of simpler times. _They need one another. I have to help them._

He never does manage to get back to sleep; He supposes it's from all the standing around watching his beloveds. He takes some time to do research on how to support people who are grieving. It’s fascinating, if not entirely helpful.

Raymond rises at a quarter-past-five, as usual. He looks around the kitchen for Cheddar for their morning walk, and when he comes up empty, consults Kevin.

“Jake’s room,” he answers before the question is even presented.

Raymond comes back nursing Cheddar in his arms. He is groggy, clearly not pleased with being woken, but he’s content enough.

“He has made a friend.”

Kevin isn’t sure whether he’s talking about Jake or the dog. He doesn’t ask. The pair head out.

When they return, Kevin and Raymond sit down for a conversation about Jake. The night has given them time to clear their minds. Each has a suggestion for the matter, and they take turns in sharing them.

“We should befriend him. Have him over for dinner,” suggests Kevin, “He needs the company.”

“Agreed.”

They make plans to invite him a week from today. In the meantime, Raymond has some other ideas.

“I see him in the office.” he explains, “So, if I see him sad, I can cheer him up,”

It was a nice idea, except, “How exactly do you plan on doing that, Ray?”

“I’ll work something out.”

Any further discussion is cut short by the man himself descending the stairs. He looks tired but awake. The pair of officers eat breakfast together before Jake leaves hastily to get appropriate workwear. He bids them farewell at the door, apologetic but thankful for their hospitality.

“It was my pleasure,” smiles Kevin.

Raymond nods, “Come again.”

Jake ducks his head, flapping his hand dismissively as he steps out onto the driveway.

“Might have another emergency at some point.” he chuckles, missing the mark on casual. He tries again for a laugh with, “Make sure you set those pyjamas aside!”

It’s awkward. Still, Raymond finds it charming, like most things Jake does. It compels him to speak.

“Jake!” he calls down the driveway. The man turns.

“Truly, anytime,” he adds, “you don’t need a reason.”

And he means it. Jake nods slightly, with more clarity and seriousness than before.

They’re still worried, but more prepared for it this time. And besides, they have a plan. Jake will have two friends, three if you count Cheddar; they don’t, but they imagine Jake might.

Anything to get him coming back, they suppose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than the last few chapters, but it felt like the right place to split it.
> 
> Thank you all for the positive response to this; your enjoyment makes me feel less weird about writing something so indulgent. 
> 
> Comment, kudos, subscribe and all that.


	5. in which Holt tries (and fails) to cheer up Jake

Holt spends the next two weeks trying to work out ways to cheer Jake up.

For starters, he dedicates a page on his legal pad to brainstorming things that make Jake happy. The page began looking bleak and little bittersweet when all he could think was _Charles, Amy,_ and _Rosa._ He scratched those items off the page; as true as it was, he couldn’t magically conjure the squad whenever Jake looked sad.

After a few days, the page started to fill up. _Die Hard. Orange Soda. The ’86 Mets. Closing Cases. Honey Mustard. Taylor Swift._ And a few more, as different memories resurfaced. _Nicholas Cage Movies. Pizza. Sour Candies. Ska Music._

Some suggestions were more feasible than others. The ’86 Mets and Taylor Swift were out of the questions - doubly so for the latter, due to the restraining order. Some of the options, however, were explored immediately.

He tried assigning Jake more cases. He was the senior detective on the squad, a little preferential treatment when it came to difficult cases was to be expected. He passed out the standard DOAs and break-ins to the less experienced officers and left the better puzzles for Peralta. Within the week, this strategy had failed.

Solving these cases - even the trickiest ones in Brooklyn - didn’t make him happy. He had long since beat the Sergeant’s all-time precinct record. There was no competition anymore. The extra work just led to later hours, earlier starts, and a grumpier Jake.

And to make matters worse, it led to the squad pestering him. Jake already got enough of that from his colleagues, wanting to know how he took down the Pontiac Bandit, Lieutenant Hawkins, or Commissioner Kelly. They wanted to hear about his time in Witness Protection, how he took down the Latvian mafia. They wanted him to entertain them with tales of his bravery - past and present.

Jake didn’t feel much like that detective anymore. He wasn’t _the Jake Peralta_ anymore. He was just a man, who after losing everything, carried on giving himself to the people of Brooklyn. He didn’t want to be a hero. They couldn’t see that; even of they could, Holt doubted they’d accept it.

He abandoned this plan, returning to his previous case-assignment algorithm. He employed a new angle.

The next Tuesday, when Jake appeared particularly down, Holt enacted his second plan. He passed casually by the detective’s desk, where Jake was being harassed by Detective Jennings and slipped into the break room. He needed to be sure his plot would not be detected. He pulled two crisp dollars from his wallet, loading one into the vending machine to purchase a can of diet seltzer water. He then made a scene.

“Damn,” he whispered.

He loaded his second dollar into the machine, selecting an orange soda. It fell into the collection tray, and he retrieved them both before entering the bullpen again.

He approached Jake’s desk in time to hear Detective Jennings enquiring, for the fifth time, to hear how they’d caught Seamus Murphy.

“Detective Jennings, where are you on that B&E I assigned you?” he asked coldly.

The man jumped, spinning in his chair to face his captain.

“Uh, I’ve been running calls to pawn shops and waiting for them to call back, sir.” he answered, somewhat blankly.

“I suggest you get back to it.”

The man nodded, “Yes, sir.”

And he rolled quickly back to his desk. Holt turned his attention to Jake.

“Peralta, my seltzer water was caught in the vending machine, so I purchased this orange soda to displace it.” He slid it across the man’s desk. “Would you care for it?”

Jake huffed a short laugh, “Sure.”

_Operation successful,_ Holt mused, returning to his office.

However, this plan soon proved problematic. You see, the soda cheered Jake up incrementally throughout the can, but the happiness faded within the half-hour due to the effects of the sugar wearing off.

The solution to that seemed simple enough; however, providing Jake with a rotation of orange sodas was flawed on a number of levels. For starters, he had begun to worry about the detective’s health after providing him with six sodas in one day. It had also become suspicious for him to be purchasing numerous beverages in one day. And finally, his bluff about the malfunctioning machine had been called, with Jake filing a work order for a technician to look over it the following day.

The list had failed. Holt sighed heavily as he relayed the story to Kevin that night.

“Perhaps you are just taking the wrong approach,” Kevin offered, “Instead of reaching out to him as a superior officer, be his friend.”

It had as much potential as any of their other ideas. Holt put this plan into action.

The next day, following the end-of-shift debrief, he called Jake into his office.

Jake shambled in a few minutes later, nursing another orange soda, this time one he bought himself. He looked lonely.

“Jake, Kevin and I wanted to invite you over for dinner on Saturday night.” he put plainly.

As many conversations with Jake seemed to go, there was silence. Holt realised, perhaps too late, that this invitation might be out of the blue. He didn’t know just how long this had been in the works.

Holt struggled to find a good explanation. _Cheddar misses you?_ No, Jake would never believe that. Cheddar is a dog and had no concept of good or bad, let alone missing any single person. _Our other guests cancelled?_ Never. They wouldn’t want Jake to think he was the second choice.

He settled for: “Kevin will be making his famous _rice._ ”

Jake looked up from his phone, where he had been checking his calendar. There was no need for an excuse after all; Holt had few seconds to contemplate his own stupidity before Jake spoke.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Jake smiled, “glad Detective Deetmore asked to trade shifts, or I would’ve had to miss it.”

“Great. Six o’clock?”

“See ya then.”

And he left, with an almost imperceptible skip in his step.

Saturday came and went. Jake had arrived five minutes early, looking smart in his small-checked shirt and dress tie, carrying a bottle of port in one hand and a bag of dog biscuits for Cheddar.

They sat down to eat, Jake raving about how excited he was to finally try Kevin’s rice.

_Rosa raved about it for weeks. Well, Jocelyn raved about it. Jocelyn Pryce._

It had been pleasant. And Jake seemed better for it. They decided to make it a bi-weekly tradition. And over time, Jake became less lonely, more open to talking about his feelings. Holt and Kevin became less worried and gained a friend and taste-tester for all their culinary ventures. Cheddar gained a quality belly-scratcher and was unaffected but content.

But, as time went on, more things went wrong. Each visit with Jake brought new information about Roger Peralta - really, they should have known not to ask. Happily residing in California with his pregnant now-fiancee, he was sending Jake constant reminders of his betrayal. Everything between ultrasound pictures where all three foetuses looked like traffic cones to baby name ideas.

Jake flashed a text to the pair as they sipped their wine.

_what about brioche 4 a girl???_

“That is a bread,” noted Kevin dryly.

“And a baby girl, apparently. They want to pair it with ‘Olivier’.”

“That is a boy’s name,” noted Kevin again.

“Which means ‘olive tree’,” added Holt, “They’re naming their child _Olive Bread_.”

A beat of silence, followed by Kevin adding, “Tell them it’s beautiful.”

And even as they searched for the humour in every dark corner of this web, they could see it was weighing on Jake. He looked tired and withered with age, sad. He clearly didn’t know how to handle this new development, especially after Roger accused him of ‘abandoning his family’ when he refused once more to fly to California to meet the children.

He slept the night on the couch that day.

Raymond wasn’t sure what to do. He stayed awake that night, working in his office to try and find a solution. A remark Jake had made so many years prior, in better times, crossed his mind.

_I wish you two could be my dads._

Maybe, just maybe, they could be. It was time for a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while, but here you go! Another chapter hot off the press.
> 
> With my school year starting back up, I'm not sure how often I'll be posting, but keep those comments rolling in and I'm sure I can find time.
> 
> Also, I would love to see a list of all the direct quotes/references from the show I've jammed into this fic, so if anyone loves it and has time on their hands, feel free to do that. I can't promise you a prize but we'll see?
> 
> Comment, subscribe, kudos and all that good stuff.


	6. in which Kevin starts a kerfuffle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a trigger warning: this chapter mentions some topics lightheartedly and in passing that might upset people. These include:
> 
> Adoption/Orphaning  
> Absent Parents  
> Kidnapping  
> and  
> Genetic Manipulation

Raymond and Kevin lay in bed, neither sleeping nor talking. It was warm and cozy and full of tension and stress. At least they had someone to share it with.

“Kevin?”

“Yes, Raymond?”

“Do you remember what Jake said when you left the safehouse?” he asked.

Kevin considered for a moment, before chuckling and attempting to play dumb. “ _We never watched_

_‘Captain Corelli’s Mandolin’?”_

Raymond smiled. “Don’t play dumb, Kevin. It’s not a good colour on you.”

“Yes,”Kevin ceded, “I do remember.”

They both sighed.

_I wish you two could be my dads._

“What if we could?” whispered Raymond.

“Ray, don’t be ridiculous.” sighed Kevin. “It’s impossible.”

The sentence hung heavy in the air. It stung like an open wound, butit was better to air the truth then cover up pain with lies.

Raymond choked up just so before asking, “Are you sure?”

“Unfortunately,” Kevin consoled, “If there was a way, I’m sure we would have thought of it.”

They cuddled close and tried to sleep. It didn’t work.

“We should think again.” Raymond offered. “Just to be sure.”

“Of course.”

Cheddar yawned and broke the spell. They glanced at the clock - 0344.

“In the morning.” they agreed.

A quiet moment, before:

“It is morning.”

“ _Raymond.”_

The next day, Raymond watched Jake browse travel websites for return flights to California in his breaks and respond to more texts from Roger about his new family and their fantastical names. The day passed like treacle down a drain pipe. It was suboptimal.

Thankfully, at Columbia, Kevin’s day was more eventful. You see, if you gather a break room full of academics and pose a complex question, they can bicker on that issue for days. That is exactly what he did.

The question? _What makes a parent?_

It was unlike anything he had every seen before, except perhaps when Dean Alistair shared an anecdote from a student and began an all-out war over what a salad truly was and whether salsa could be classified as a tomato salad.

Well, he put the question to the two best people in the office to start the ball rolling - the cattiest Biology professor and the most annoying philosophy professor. He stirred his coffee as the conversation took shape.

“Biologically, a parent has genetic ties to a child-slash-offspring having sired or conceived said child not adopted them. In layman’s terms, a birth parent. A _biological_ parent.” answered Biology.

“But that’s not all there is to parenting!” argued Philosophy whimsically. “Consider this: a biological father who sires a child and then disappears from said child’s life would not be recognised by the child or the community as that child’s parent, while an adoptive figure who fills that role would be perceived to be the child’s father in the absence of the biological parent.”

Biology ceded to that, but added,“Yes, but they become a parental figure, not a parent. Your step-children do not immediately become one-third your genetic makeup when you marry. No one can fill that biological niche, aside from the two parties present at conception.”

It was at this time that, like clockwork, the Head of the Law and Criminal Justice Department entered the break room for a cup of coffee. Having been eavesdropping from the hall - _lawyers_ \- she already had an argument cued up.

“In legal terms, a parent is one who has custody, guardianship, or access rights to a minor, that is a child.”

“See!” said Philosophy.

“That would legally mean any third-party, be it with any legally recognisable connection to the birth parent or no, would be able to be classified as a parent, or at very least a guardian, in a court of law.”

Biology rolled his eyes, “Legalism aside, a random stranger who adopts a child does not instantly become a parent.”

“Maybe not in the eyes of an outsider,” chimed Child Psychology from the hall, “but even a child as young as three or four can readily adopt a parental figure to fill that role in a very short space of time given the right circumstances. Usually, that would require the absence of a birth parent.”

“-and, if a birth parent is absent, another figure stepping in would fill that biological niche.” added Law, “Wouldn’t you say, if that figure performed the duties of a parent, that they would fill that niche regardless of biology and be accepted by the child even _above_ the biological parents, therefore effectively filling that niche?”

Kevin slipped out of the room to teach his class, knowing that the Law Department had a training stenographer in the other room to take minutes. By the end of the week, he would have a very compelling read to determine whether he and Raymond could _become_ Jake’s fathers in a way that could be widely recognised.

Well, the argument caught back up with him over the lunch break. The Biology Department had withdrawn on the grounds that they had answered the question to the best of their ability, and it had strayed into realms of psychology and legalism where biological phenomena no longer applied.

Anthropology chipped that ‘parent’ is an achieved status. By this measure, any human being who acquired a child became a parent in the same way that any human who committed a crime became a criminal. That was a shocking development that was swiftly followed by the question of whether that status is nulled if a parent stops be present upon the transition from childhood to adulthood.

Child Psychology posed a theory about mentor figures and perceived parental roles, where a child can seperate the role of an older sibling as a guardian from the role of a parent if they are old enough to reasonably understand those categories. This added a new dimension to the argument: did being a parent require _intent?_

Biology rejoined the conversation to add that for many species the answer was yes, but for humans, the act of procreating wasn’t always undertaken for that reason, but can still result in parenthood; they then posed the question: _can you still be a parent if your child is no longer around?_

This started off a whole new wave of thought, where the entirety of the University of Columbia attempted to find the key to unlocking the secrets of becoming parents. It was unclear whether they would find an answer. Now, at least, Kevin and Raymond were not going to be alone to ponder their parental status, but surrounded by people at the top of their fields who still couldn’t break their feelings and moralities down into a single thought.

Over the following days, people consulted Kevin for more parameters for the question. _How old is the child? Are their parents present or absent? Are they legally trying to become guardians, or be recognised by the child or wider community? Is this an adoption issue?_

Kevin played it off by vaguely describing his situation with Jake with as few details as he could in an attempt to make it sound more distant - as if it were unfolding for a friend. Most colleagues accepted that this might just be about that young man Boyle and his parental status among his children.

The answers were still rolling in, however. You couldn’t walk three steps without hearing another department’s take on it. His own Department debated the historical context of familial relationships and their lax use of biology to determine succession. They posed that parents are really whoever is around.

_Well, Ray and I are around._

Biology came to the conclusion _‘If the niche fits, fill it._ ” Anthropology suggested kidnapping, gene tampering, infant swapping, and adoption as ways to obtain both a child and parent status. Philosophy decided that life is what you make it, and you can become a parent to whatever you feel fit to take into your heart.

Kevin felt his question had been answered in a round-about way from all angles, without any suspicion. That was mostly correct. It turned out, one among them had seen through his elaborate ruse.

That night, as he closed up his office, a colleague who taught Child Psychology stepped in.

“I heard your little question making the rounds, Professor.” She handed him a book. “And I have my own thoughts on the matter, but I think we should really examine _why_ the question is being asked in the first place.”

Kevin leapt to answer, but she held up her hand.

“As a mother, I, too, try to find my place in the world and a meaning for the role I play in my children’s lives.”

This struck Kevin as an odd statement. She was, after all, a woman in her late sixties with no partner and no children - at least that he knew of.

“I can’t answer those questions for you; This book might help you though, at least with the _why_. Even if it doesn’t, I hope it adds a new perspective to the argument.”

And as she slipped out, she muttered, “Don’t bother correcting me if I’m wrong.”

Kevin was left, standing alone in his office, the most intriguing book on Earth burning a hole in his satchel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what Kevin's book will be about... :D
> 
> Thank you to all who have kept on commenting to keep this fic alive. I love writing it, and we are almost down to the nitty-gritty of it.
> 
> If you'd like, add your two cents about Kevin's question in the comments. 
> 
> As always, comment, subscribe and kudos, all those good things, and get ready for more very soon.


	7. in which Raymond and Kevin read a book and make a plan

Kevin had intended to read the book in secret before discussing the contents with Ray. It only took a matter of hours for that plan to fail.

He disregarded the ‘No Shoptalk’ policy at the dinner table that night.

“There was a heated debate at work today,” he said casually, “Quite a scene, really.”

Ray gave him a skeptical look as if to say, ‘Why are you telling me about this?”

“I started it.” Kevin said, trying not to sound too smug; He couldn’t help his slight grin, however.

“Kevin, that is so unlike you.” Ray said, curious and a little sarcastic. It was true that he’d begun one too many rows in the office, but this one was different, they could both tell.

“I asked a simple question. My colleagues did the rest.”

Ray shot him an alarmed eyebrow. “ _Tomato Salad_ , or something of more substance?”

They both chuckled over the memory of that fateful week when salsa was forever banned in the break room. Kevin doubted that this question would take up the same legacy, not that it mattered anyway.

“ _What makes a parent?”_

“Kevin, you didn’t!” Ray monotoned. “What will the office think of us?”

Ray’s concern was unwarranted, to say the least. Nevertheless, it brought a smile to his face. His husband was ever so careful nowadays not to risk Kevin’s reputation amongst his peers by doing silly things; It would have been alarming for the office if they discovered the true purpose of the question. Thankfully, they wouldn’t.

“That we are simply helping Detective Boyle with a dilemma.” Kevin soothed. “Well, all bar one.”

And he reached into his work satchel and retrieved the book. They both stared at it, Kevin in anticipation, Ray in confusion, and both in fear of seeing the other’s reaction.

Time passed. It can’t have been long, but it was long enough.

“There’s a way?” whispered Ray. “We can be-”

“-maybe.” Kevin grasped his husband’s hand. “I haven’t read it yet.”

It was deemed to be the top priority in the Holt-Cozner household that they both read this book thoroughly. Ray hurried him out of the kitchen and up to the office, promising to clean up from dinner so long as he got right to reading.

He only got through the introduction before he shut the book, verging on tears. There was something about the way that the author talked about the Inner Child that made Kevin think of Jake. He was overwhelmed by his love for the man as he read more about how the Inner Child is affected when there is no one to care for it. In a way, he felt he was reading Jake’s soul.

Torn between grief and anger, Kevin rose from his chair to collect the things he would need. Notepaper. Sticky tabs. Markers and pens in a variety of colours. A hug from his beloved. His laptop. A dictionary. He made himself a nook between the bookshelves, settling in the make his research count.

Three nights he read, reading many chapters multiple times, the whole book through twice. The pages were plastered with tabs, annotations, and definitions of terms he’d discovered on the web. He had never felt more satisfied in his whole career.

_There is a way._

With that thought, Kevin did something he had not done in many years; He cried deeply. It was a well-guarded secret that he had always wanted to be a father. Even as a boy, when he was still dreaming of becoming an astronaut or discovering a new element, he still hoped he would get to raise a family. It broke his heart when he realised he liked men and that his dreams might go unfulfilled. By the time he and Ray were married, they both knew there would be no time for children. He had long since come to terms with that.

Well, now there was Jake. Maybe, just maybe, they could make this work, and they could be the family for which he had longed all these years. Tears of joy and hope were all he could manage. He cried himself out of tears, calling it a night.

Placing to book on Ray’s bedside table, Kevin settled in for a few hours of rest before his shift. The cycle began again, this time with Ray doing the reading.

He went out a bought a different set of sticky tabs after work, so he would not confuse Kevin’s notes with his own, and began to read. He hadn’t read something with such a single-minded focus since he was pouring over the files from Seamus Murphy’s case. It struck him that even though it was different circumstances, he was wholly devoted to the cause of the same two people: Jake and Kevin.

The book introduced him to a new world of thinking. It followed the lives of a number of child psychologists who lived part-time as guardians for adults who had experienced poor childhoods. These adults sought to have a second chance at childhood, living part-time in the headspace of a child, and receiving all the love and affection they had missed out on. It introduced terminology, psychology, and testimonies from these people, along with a comprehensive view of what this life looked like for parents and children alike.

Raymond had never known you could want something so badly. He had, he’ll admit, been concerned that he would not be interested. His fears were alleviated by the second chapter. He wanted this as much as Kevin did.

They convened over an evening cup of coffee to exchange notes. They had noted a lot of the same things - Jake’s pattern of behaviour already following the psychological patterns mapped out by the book the role of the guardian in this scenario, among other things.

“Ray, I want this.” Kevin confessed, almost afraid.

“I do, too, Kevin.” He comforted. “I do, too.”

There was only one thing standing in there way: talking to Jake. They spent a number of days pondering how to go about that. Kevin consulted his colleague who had given him the book, sheepishly requesting access to some more of her library and being delighted at being allowed to keep the first book - she insisted she had another copy at home.She suggested how she had brought it up with her daughters and encouraged Kevin to come to her with any more questions he might have. They shared a handshake full of respect.

The rest of her books were informative, but none pointed them in the right direction for how to introduce Jake to this concept; they all assumed that the little was already involved with age-playing.

They spent long hours in ponderous silence. Jake was a sensitive man with strong feelings; the last thing they wanted to do was scare him or make in feel pressured. Unfortunately, there was no natural way to slip it in when chatting.

Days of useless _‘what if we…’_ conversations came and went without anything to show for it. The hope they had felt was beginning to fade. Ray thought bitterly on it for a while, before sighing and remembering his old adage: _it’s best not to have dreams._ It didn’t help seeing Jake each day, falling into more and more pieces, and being unable to reach out. He resigned himself to forget the whole idea.

Kevin, however, had other plans. A rare day off from work, with nothing to do but think about their sorry state of affairs, Kevin wondered what _Jake_ would do if he encountered a situation like this. That led him to chuckle as he imagined the man creating a Nicholas-Cage style feat like in those movies they had watched in the safe house. Well, then it struck him.

_What if we made an honest to goodness action movie plan?_

It was as good as any other idea. Kevin set himself to making it happen.

He still had five hours before Ray got home for work, and arming himself with a vision and a cocky smirk - he decided to forego the classic action movie leather jacket, it seemed a touch dramatic - he went to the office supply store.

He returned home with a trunkful of all the things we would need to make the perfect plan. Whiteboards, markers, sticky notes. Some brightly-coloured string. A cork board and push pins. He fetched his laminator, label maker and miniature calendar from the office and set to work.

The living room became his base of operations. He surrounded himself with whiteboards lined up end-to-end, supplies arranged so that they could always be in reach. He made a cup of tea and sat down to brain storm.

He started be thinking of a witty name for the operation. He was not as gifted as Jake or Ray with their plots - this was no _Triple Dragon_ after all - but he ended up quite happy. Operation PAPA - Peralta’s Age-Play Attempt - was a go.

He gathered together some key pages from the book they had read and photocopied them to fill out the upper left-hand corner of whiteboard wall.Really, he was looking for a way to make this whole thing look more in-depth. He was so caught up in his idea that he hadn’t stopped to consider that he didn’t know how to make an action movie plan.

He stalled out after a few hours. Exhausted but not yet defeated, he planned to take a short break by walking Cheddar before returning to his evil lair. But, when he met with Cheddar, who was standing in the kitchen holding Mr. Hootsworth, he was struck by a brilliant thought.

The Halloween Heists! The two men in his life planned a great action movie ploy each year. If he could just follow their formula of events, he might win this. The idea of a walk was henceforth abandoned as Kevin raced back to his whiteboards.

_First,_ Kevin mused, _you must employ the element of surprise. Catch your subject off guard._ He wrote this on the middle whiteboard. _You need a good distraction. Hide your plan in plain sight. Illusion and sleight of hand are both acceptable. Keep the pace up - don’t leave too long between each step, lest someone have time to work out your next move. Use others to help you to overcome challenges out of your skill set. Be confident and have your teammates’ back._

Raymond arrived home to see the living room had become a office supply storage unit. He was greeted his his husband, hands inky, who pulled him into the room to explain his plot. It was brilliant. He was confused how had never considered this before.

Suffice to say, his hope was restored. He ditched his coat in the entryway, preparing to settle in to make reality of dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, we are so close now! I can almost smell the fluff.
> 
> Alrighty folks, what do we think so far? How do you think the plan is going to go? How will Jake react? If you want to know, stay tuned for another update soon.
> 
> Comment, subscribe and kudos if you like, and I will keep my keyboard fingers clicking away!


	8. in which Holt and Kevin enact Operation PAPA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holt and Kevin's plan comes into its own, begins and ends, with Holt, Kevin and Jake swept up for the ride!

”Kevin, I hate to be dramatic, but this plan is tenuous at best.” Ray groaned from the couch.

He was right. They had been working with a plan that hinged on the bullpen being completely empty, save for themselves. It could be feasible, Ray had mused, if they could engineer a way to clear the bullpen. In the Halloween Heist, they could release tear gas or fake a bomb scare, neither of which were options in this case; if one wanted to remain undetected, an empty bullpen would be unachievable.

They had brainstormed through two or three plans, but nothing was coming together. They were risky at best, some down right ludicrous. This was far harder than planning the Heists. Every time they thought they were on to something, they hit a wall.

“Something must work, Ray.” Kevin sighed, erasing the scaffold for plan number four from the board. “This is our one chance.”

Ray nodded, “I’m sorry.”

They sat, throwing out weak ideas, nothing worth building upon, until Kevin suggested they break for dinner, seeing as it was nearly nine. They ate Chinese takeout in defeated silence. They called it a night.

Kevin stood in the en suite, brushing his teeth defeatedly.He was a professor, he had a PhD, and a rock hard brain - he should know how to treat a little boy. He was struck by inspiration so strong he forgot that he had been in the midst of a different task. He raced down the stairs, toothbrush still held in-between his lips. He descended the stairs with speed, so fast that Ray could scarcely believe it was him.

He scrawled a few near-illegible notes on the board, before returning to brushing his teeth. He would remember what _Chaperone -Bedtime_ meant in the morning; it was hardly smart to stay up half the night working the thought process through.

As soon as Kevin had vacated the living room, Ray sneaked in for a peek at his work. Though he wasn’t sure what his husband was thinking, he did have a few ideas of his own. He began a seperate word cloud on another board, where he labelled a bubble _Roger Peralta_. He, too, went to bed.

Except that neither could sleep. They both tried for a good hour. Adrenaline and ideas swarmed in their heads.

“Ray?” whispered Kevin.

“Yes?” whispered Ray.

“Do you want to-”

“-Yes.”

And they scrambled for dressing gowns and slippers, returning to their work.

Ray took a moment to explain his notes.

“The only father figure Jake has to compare our actions to is Roger Peralta. So, whatever he does over the next few weeks, we do _better_. We _show_ Jake what good fathers we are, so he has _no choice but to compare us to Roger.”_

“Brilliant, Ray.” beamed Kevin, before he took some time to explain his notes. “If we treat Jake like we are already his parents, the transition will feel informal and therefore more natural. For example, I could swing by the precinct and collect Jake from work on days that he comes over for dinner.

“When he comes for dinner, we can keep him until it is unsafe to drive home. He has stayed the night before on countless occasions, it should not seem suspicious. From there, we should enforce a sleepover as part of coming for dinner, eventually introducing a bedtime routine. That way we can show him that we are responsible parents.” Kevin sighed, “From there, I’m not sure.”

They compared their notes, before coming to the realisation that Ray’s thoughts made an excellent starting point for a plan, with Kevin’s making a good end. They worked to fill the middle.

By two in the morning, they had a fully-fleshed out plan. They familiarised themselves with it, before agreeing to begin implementing it. Raymond transferred the plan from the whiteboard to his laptop, printing them both a copy to refer to in times of trouble. They couldn’t risk failing this operation,

They spent three weeks being very grown-up and everything Roger was not. Using Jake’s complaints about his absent father as a guide, they began doing the opposite. When Roger asked Jake for a loan, and then called him greedy when he refused, Ray and Kevin praised Jake for his kindheartedness and generosity when he offered to buy dinner for them that week.

When Roger sent Jake picture of himself and his very pregnant fiancee at a sports car dealership, Kevin rolled his eyes, before researching sensible, family-sized sedans for when he and Ray replaced Gertie in the coming spring.

When Roger got drunk, Ray led a seminar on how to keep a social drink from becoming an alcohol problem. When Roger criticised Jake, they praised him. When Roger left, they stayed - and they were sure that if he returned, they’d still be there.

In addition to this, they treated Jake more like a son. Kevin reminded Jake to watch his step getting out of the elevator when he picked him up from work and praised him for remembering his seatbelt. Ray tied his shoe for him when it came loose during a training exercise. Together, they stepped into the role of powerhouse parents.

They wondered if they were being heavy-handed, but Jake seemed to be responding well. Instead of brushing Ray off when he tried to tie his shoe, he noted how much tighter his shoe felt, and thanked him. He smiled when Kevin reminded him about the elevator. _I always forget that step_.

The post-dinner sleepover became an easy part of their routine. It turned into a pseudo-movie night, where they would each select a film to show the others. Jake brought his personal classics, _Die Hard, Memento,_ and _Ghost Rider_. Kevin finally watched _Captain Corelli’s Mandolin_ and shared _The Princess Bride_ with the group. Ray managed to make Jake love _Moneyball_ and surprised everyone with the choice of _The Fox and the Hound_ \- a movie that reminded him of his relationship with Kevin.

All was well.

Until Roger called Jake at three o’clock in morning, drunk and angry. He and his fiancee had been arguing about what colour to paint the nursery - A shade of white called _Champagne_ or a different shade of white called _Honeymilk_. He had stormed out, had a few too many tequila shots, and decided to blame Jake for everything that had gone wrong in his life so far. It was rough, and Jake had listened to him yell for a few hours before hanging up after his father had passed out on the floor of a hotel bathroom.

Kevin and Raymond agreed that night that they would implement the final phase of the plan to next day.

_Step One - Distraction_

For their plan to work, Jake needed to be out of the precinct for the first part of the day, lest he catch Ray or Kevin sneaking around. In the morning briefing, Jake was assigned to follow up some witness statements for a hit-and-run case from the previous week.

Kevin arrived at eleven-thirty, an hour-and-one-half before he would usually be there. Each man set off to do his assigned tasks in preparing for Operation PAPA.

Kevin was in charge of all non-work related items. He set up a few red herrings - an important element for the plan to go off without a hitch. He emptied the lost and found box and planted a yellow shirt with one red and one blue sleeve, along with a pair of oversized black jeans with an elastic waist. He purchased a can of orange soda on Jake’s desk, opened it, and stacked it on his desk with a penny underneath, rendering it unstable.

Raymond dismissed Officer Jennings for the rest of the day - he had finished all his work, and having him hanging around the office might put a spanner in the works. He called Jake’s desk phone and left him a number of voicemails. The blinking light in the answering machine was sure to put him on edge, seeing as Roger Peralta had a habit of calling him during work hours to ask him inane questions.

_Step Two - Hide in Plain Sight_

Kevin coming to pick Jake up from work was a very normal thing by this time. It wasn’t strange for him to arrive at the precinct. This development allowed him to begin the second phase of their plan. He sat quietly in Raymond’s office, waiting for Jake to return.

They needed Jake to feel a little ambushed for the element of surprise to kick in, but they couldn’t have him figuring out something was afoot. For this, everything had to seem perfectly normal. They took great strides to ensure this, even though some risks had to be taken. If it seemed too normal, Jake would get suspicious. They tried to maintain this balance by planting a mysterious stain in the elevator and leaving the fridge door open one quarter-inch.

And then they waited, perfectly naturally, sitting in Ray’s office. They both feigned being hard at work on paperwork. Neither of them could have focused on that work if they had tried, but that was the beauty of pretending - you didn’t really have to be doing anything, merely present to the world as if you were.

The elevator doors dinged to signal that Jake had returned.

_Step Three - Illusion and Sleight of Hand_

When Jake arrived, Ray called him into his office. He came, debriefing the Captain on his findings from the case - nothing to note, except that the plates reported don’t match the description of the car. This distraction allowed Kevin to slip out to ‘go to the bathroom’. As he passed Peralta’s desk, he seized the man’s bag, taking his locker key and heading for the restrooms.

He deviated from his course into the men's locker room, where he broke into Peralta’s locker and moved his spare change of clothes to a seperate location. He then deposited a note he had taken from Peralta’s desk a few weeks prior - it simply read ‘Do laundry’, and Peralta would undoubtedly assume that he had forgotten to replace them.

On his way back to the bullpen, his husband texted, telling him Peralta was at his desk and now was the perfect time to engage the second step in Operation PAPA, the _Orange Soda Scene._ As he passed by Peralta, he pretended to trip on the edge of his own shoe, knocking Peralta into his desk;The movement of the desk in turn moved the soda, which did exactly as they had anticipated, and soaked Jake.

“Excuse me, Jake,” Kevin apologised, offering him a napkin. “I lost my balance.”

Jake smiled, accepting the offer. “Don’t worry about it. Charles’ girls spill stuff on me all the time.”

And he wiped away at his shirt and pants in vain. The plan was working.

“Maybe you should go and get changed?” coaxed Kevin.

“Yeah, maybe,” said Jake, dismissing himself to do that very thing. Kevin scurried back to Ray’s office, and they watched as Jake emerged from the locker room, holding the note from his locker, and made a bee-line for the lost and found.

He returned in the following minutes dressed in the loud yellow shirt and the elastic waist jeans. With his floppy hair and his face flushed from the cold, he looked young but unfazed by his change.It melted their hearts.

Jake returned to his desk, finalised a couple of pieces of paperwork, and glared at his phone. He was clearly worried about attending to the messages. He alternated between hovering a hand over the receiver and trying to pretend it didn’t exist. He eventually chose to ignore it, closing his report as it was time to clock off.

He entered the office, where the next stage of the plan was ready to begin. Raymond was supposed to ask him about Roger and lead the conversation from there into a place where it was clear that he and Kevin were planning on becoming Jake’s fathers. They had been preparing for this; it was all going smoothly.

Except, as Jake handed over his report, Ray realised what they were doing. All this time, trying to be better than Roger, they had fallen into the same cycle of manipulation and deception Jake had been experiencing his whole life. They had come prepared to manipulate the situation to suit their own intentions - keeping Jake in the dark until he was too far into it to change his mind.They were treating him like he didn’t have the right to speak for his own experiences, as if he didn’t have a choice about who he got to call ‘Dad.’ It dawned on him that they were just being a couple of Rogers - more deadbeat dads for Jake to recover from.

So, instead of playing out the rest of his plan, he cut across Kevin, who was about to speak one of their pre-rehearsed lines and said, “Jake, Kevin and I spent all the last three weeks coming up with a plan of how to tell you this instead of talking to you about it. I think it’s time we changed that.”

He reached into his bag, producing the book - tabbed pages and margin notes and all. He handed it to Jake, who accepted it with a little scepticism.

“What’s this?” he asked ominously. The yellow shirt undercut his seriousness, but the urge to laugh was overwhelmed by the guilt at their near-betrayal.

He exchanged a look with Kevin, unsure what to say. Thankfully, his husband had caught on to his train of thought, and sharing in his misery, responded, “Hopefully, an explanation. And maybe a proposition.”

“But only if you want it to be!” rushed Ray, blinking at eight-second intervals.

Jake looked a little confused, before responding, “There’s something off with you two. Captain Holt’s clearly having a meltdown, and you’ve got a weird crease in your brow. Are you guys okay, or should I call an ambulance for your joint-stroke?”

“We’ll be alright.” nodded Kevin.

Jake glanced down at the book. “Whatever’s in this thing has got you both crazy, hasn’t it?”

They both looked away, embarrassed at his statement. It really did have them crazy, almost as much as the Heists, or maybe more. It was unbecoming.

Jake looked suddenly worried, “Please tell me it’s not a sex thing.”

“No!” they both called, too sudden and too loud.

“Okay.” smiled Jake with a laugh. He’d never seen them so abrupt. “Look, let’s say dinner’s off for tonight. Go home and deal with-” he gestured them both with a vague circular motion, “- this, and I’ll go do my homework.”

He moved to leave.

“Jake!” called Kevin.

He turned, flashing them a signature smirk that didn’t quite meet his eyes - a sign of his worry. “Yeah?”

“I hope this won’t change what we already have too much. You’re allowed to say no.”

“That’s a weird statement.” Jake swallowed. “See you tomorrow.”

And then he was gone, a little speck of yellow disappearing into the bullpen, leaving nothing but shame, tension, and fear behind him. It hung in between Ray and Kevin, an invisible wall that kept them from looking at one another or speaking. After some time, they rose and went home, hoping for the best and accepting that they would get the worst.

Hopefully, they hadn’t lost Jake. They knew they would deserve it if they did, but they didn’t want him to lose two of his friends - he would always be welcome to come around and visit Cheddar, so he didn’t lose all three, but they doubted that it would happen.

Neither could voice their fears. They sat in silence, refusing to speak and make it worse.

It was a long, cold night in the Holt-Cozner household.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst train is leaving the station, next stop - the Broken Hearts Club!
> 
> Hope you all like the slightly longer than usual chapter, I couldn't break it down any further. But, I think you'll agree that this cliffhanger is just the perfect place to stop and build the tension. I know, I'm mean.
> 
> Ahh, I'm having too much fun with this. But, never fear, we are almost out of the woods. There's not much more world building I need to do, I think we'll be set from here.
> 
> Comment, kudos and subscribe for more of the same (or worse, whoops)


	9. in which Jake is frightened by a book

Before Amy, Jake had never been much of a reader. He hadn’t been to the library since the fourth grade, owned about three books - well, really two, seeing as his bookshelf was two copies of The Squad and a self-help book Gina had left behind when she moved. If he had been honest, he hadn’t spent a lot of time trying to love reading, and he was a little scared of it now. In short, not a bookworm.

When he was dating Amy, that all changed. She introduced him to all the genres of fiction, all different reading levels, and writing styles. With Amy, Jake became a reader of all things. His bookshelves grew and grew until he had to take a box of some of his all-time favourites and put it in storage to make way for all the new books he’d just ordered.

After Amy left, Jake embraced reading as a way to feel close to her and far from the world. He read a lot of sad books with ambiguous endings, something to give him an idea of how people moved on from something like this. Then, as he got better at dealing with it, he read books about lone wolves to try and remember what it felt like to be proud of being alone.

Eventually - when he was tired of his bookshelf becoming a shrine to sadness - he embraced his old habits. He started reading Sherlock Holmes and James Bond. He learned how to choose his own genres and how to let go of things that he had only read because Amy had suggested them. He became the librarian of his own happiness, alphabetising the good ones and donating the bad.

When he started seeing Holt and Kevin regularly, he took book recommendations from them. He felt weird at first perusing their mammoth library, but he settled in, embracing the feeling of being surrounded by all the knowledge he had never known existed. He dove in and swam around in a sea of words; It gave them something to talk about whenever he returned, having finished a book one of them had given him. 

He liked learning new things and reading outside of his comfort zone. At least, he thought he did.

It had been a long time since a book had intimidated him.

It had sat, burning a hole in his passenger seat the whole ride from the precinct to his apartment. The title coaxed him, reeling him in, making him wondered. He had flipped it over at a set of traffic lights, trying to ignore it. He’d think about it when he wasn’t driving. Except, he couldn’t quite let it go.

He had put it on his coffee table as soon as he got home. He decided that he should eat something before reading - he’d forgotten to eat before whilst reading a particularly thrilling novel, this would be no different.

He made a sandwich, pulled a can of sparkling water from the fridge, and went to read the book.

He couldn’t do it. He was too scared. He couldn’t think what this book could be about, but the reactions Holt and Kevin had had were fresh in his mind. He wasn’t even sure what he was worried about - he just knew that he was.

Sandwich eaten, sparkling water can crushed and put in the recycling, he had no excuse. And because he had no excuse, he made one.

He did his laundry. Ironed his laundry. Made a grocery list for the next week’s shopping. Turned the air-conditioning down by a few degrees so the house would be warm enough to read. Closed the blinds. Turned the air-conditioning up because it was too hot. Watered his plants.

He found himself at the fridge again, trying to find something that would fill the strange hole that had opened in his chest. _Jalapeno poppers won’t do it._ He thought. He ate them anyway.

He found himself sitting on his couch, staring at the book. There was no time like the present, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to open it.

In a moment of insane resolution and pigheaded stupidity, he texted Holt and Kevin.

_I’m scared of your book and I haven’t even opened it_

And then he waited. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but he was sure he’d know it when it arrived. His phone pinged twice.

_If it helps, we were also scared.- Prof. K. Cozner._

_Jake, you don’t have to read it if it makes you uncomfortable. It won’t change how we feel about you. Sincerely, Raymond Holt._

It did help to hear from them, to feel that he wasn’t alone facing whatever it was he was afraid of. Still, he couldn’t quite make himself open it.

He went out to drive around and get something for dinner. He had leftover roast chicken and vegetables he could eat, but he wanted something a little more, well, he wasn’t sure. Something _else._ He’d know it when he saw it.

He stopped driving after an hour, pulled into the stopping bay at _Happy Hippo Japanese Noodle Bar_ for a feast of things that were hot and different and not as scary as the book he was going to read. He loaded them into the car, clipping a seatbelt around them for safe keeping - the memory of that lady’s soup all over the dashboard haunted him, and the car had only just been cleaned. He went home.

Noodles in hand, Jake felt more secure. He took a breath, picked up the book, and began to read.

He read for hours. He couldn’t stop - one-part fear he wouldn’t have the courage to start again and nine-parts enthusiasm. He took the book to the bathroom and to bed. The sun was rising on the next day by the time he closed the back cover, having read it from start to finish.

He was dumbstruck. At first, it was a little weird and very confronting that Holt and Kevin had given it to him. They had also implied they wanted this and wanted it with him. He wasn’t sure yet how to handle it, or how to reconcile his feelings. He wanted to sleep on it, but instead he went into the office to start his day, only a fraction earlier than usual.

He avoided Captain Holt until the end of the day - until he handed in his paperwork. It was clear they both had the same thing on their mind, but Jake wasn’t ready to talk about it.

“I haven’t read it yet.” he whispered, knowing that Holt would see that he was lying.

“Okay.”

“I’m going to. Tonight.” he tried again, technically the truth.

Holt nodded, “Feel no pressure to, Peralta. In your own time is fine.”

“Alright.”

He left. But, he took a detour on the way home. You see, if he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. There was only one right way to confront your feelings on a topic and come to an understandable solution - the Santiago way.

Stocking up on sticky notes, reference tabs, pens of a variety of colours and a legal pad for taking detailed notes, Jake prepared to research the living crap out of this.

Maybe then he’d understand why he wanted it _so badly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this cliffhanger is slightly less painful than the last, but I understand that it'll be its own kind of torture. :)
> 
> Alright, we're almost into the story, and I want to know - what do you guys think is going to happen next, and what do you want to see?
> 
> Comment, kudos and subscribe, all that good stuff, the next instalment is on the way!


	10. in which everyone feels a little tense

Jake was tired. He felt like he’d been running for an entire week, and in a way that was true. He’d spent every spare second of his week reading the book. It was a heavy read, not something you could just chew and swallow. In trying to learn all its terms and secrets in one go, he’d worn himself out.

He couldn’t remember how it felt to be this drawn to something. He couldn’t leave it alone. Every time he tried to take a break, to work out what the hell he was feeling, and why, he found himself pouring over it again.

He tried to rationalise it. He hadn’t done something Santiago style in a while, but she was the only one who had ever tried to help him understand the world. So, armed with more office supplies than sense, he read the book again, taking notes this time. He felt he owed it to himself - and in a smaller way to Holt and Kevin - to try and understand this book and its tantalising ideas. If he couldn’t understand it, he couldn’t do it right.

Except that he couldn’t work out what the right way was. He’d tried a lot of things in his life - goat yoga, anchovies on pizza, and skydiving, to name a few - and he’d learnt a valuable lesson: some things you just did when you got the chance, and some things you needed to prepare for. He felt this was strongly in the second category.

He tried to prepare. He learnt the terminology - and not just the stuff in the book. He went online, read forums and testimonies, watched mini documentaries and maxi-documentaries - another word he had invented, much to Holt’s disapproval - and took three notebooks of scribbled notes. But he still felt like a fish out of water. He didn’t really know what to do.

Usually, if he was unsure of something, he’d ask Holt and Kevin for help. However, this time, he felt like he couldn’t.Things were weird; He and Holt hadn’t really been talking the same since they gave him the book. And maybe he was imagining things, but Holt had felt distant lately. Also, he hadn’t spoken to Kevin since before he read the book. He was afraid of losing them both, so he didn’t call.

At this point, he felt he couldn’t just call. So he suffered, alone and in silence

———

Things were quite the same in the Holt-Cozner household.

They wanted to check in with Jake, but it felt wrong. They didn’t want their concern to be taken for pressuring, or if Jake hadn’t found time to read the book yet, they didn’t want to appear to be hurrying him. If he was going to make a decision about this, he needed space.

All the same, the week felt incomplete without having him for dinner. This week’s DVD selections - _Gone in Sixty Seconds_ from Jake, _Se7en_ from Ray, and _Finding Dory_ from Kevin - sat on the entertainment unit gathering dust. Well, metaphorically gathering dust; They were doing much more cleaning than usual to avoid thinking too much.

The second night, they apologised to one another for all that had led to this outcome. Kevin apologised for not warning Ray before asking around about their quandary, bringing others into their private affairs. Ray apologised for taking it too seriously and getting carried away. They both apologised for getting caught up in it, even though they thought that apology was more due to Jake than themselves. The air was thick with the chants of _'I’m sorry'_ and _'you’re forgiven'_. It was exactly what they needed.

They felt more on the same page after that. Ray confessed to having felt like they had fallen out of being _Ray and Kevin: Husbands in Crime_ , acting as glorified roommates in the past few days. Kevin shyly agreed, apologising again for distancing himself. They agreed to stop apologising for having emotions from there on out. It wouldn't last, but the sentiment stopped them casting blame.

They tried to minimise the damage in the following days, preparing for the worst and expecting it, too. Optimism hadn’t helped; if it was going to be bad, they’d rather not fantasise about it ending up any different. They put aside hopes and dreams and prepared to settle for whatever came their way. After all, _give up and settle_ was a sound guide to happiness.

Neither of them had been expecting the phone call they received from Jake, a mere four days after they had given him the book. It was late into the evening, going on nine o’clock when Raymond’s phone began to chime.

“It’s Jake.” he said, raising a contemplative eyebrow.

Kevin swallowed, “I think you’d better answer it.”

He did but failed to follow up the action with any sort of greeting. Kevin took over.

“Jake?” he asked, disbelieving that he would be calling.

“Kev!” Jake exclaimed, almost sarcastically. He recognised this tone to be Jake’s _‘something is very wrong but I don’t want you to catch on, so I’m trying to sound casual’_ voice.

“Is everything alright?”

There was a pause, followed by a pronounced sigh. “Uh, well, no.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” asked Ray, having recovered his voice.

“Not really, but I think we should.” he murmured.

“At least you’re honest,” smiled Kevin, “What’s wrong?”

There was a long silence, before Jake said, “You know, I knew this would be easier in person.”

The line was suddenly filled with a series of odd noises. Cloth shuffling, something sloshing then rattling. A car door opening and closing - a sound that sounded far closer than it should.

And there was a knock at the door. A tired knock, but unmistakable. Two raps, with just the outside corner of the knuckles, hitting the door the the right of the knocker. It was precisely the way Jake knocked.

Kevin handed the phone to Ray. He measured his steps walking towards the door, careful not to step over the sleeping Cheddar in his haste to see if it was, in fact, Jake.

The door swung open to reveal him, wearing his trademark tiny-checked shirt and some nice jeans. In his left hand was a bottle of Port, and tucked under the other were some organic dog treats for Cheddar. He had the phone jammed between his cheek and his shoulder.

His attempt at a charming smile felt more like an embarrassed grimace, but it made them both laugh, so it wasn’t too bad.

“You know, you could’ve saved yourself the call and just come in.” He reached out to help Jake with his armload of things. Only now did he notice that the man also had a satchel over one shoulder. "You're always welcome."

Jake smiled softly, handing the wine to Kevin, before bending down to feed Cheddar a treat. Cheddar’s butt wiggled appreciatively.

“I didn’t know if I could say it to your face.”

Ray appeared in the doorway of the living room, “Would you like to try?”

Jake nodded. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, new chapter! 
> 
> Sorry for the delay, life got in the way. Hopefully there'll be a bit more time in my life to dedicate to frequent update now, but I won't make any promises.
> 
> Anyway, kudos, comment, subscribe, all the good stuff, and I'll get back to tickling the ivories on my keyboard!


	11. in which Raymond, Kevin, and Jake talk about their feeling

As Kevin helped Jake over the threshold, Raymond cherished the moment to watch the two men he loved the most in the world. It had been a long week, longer without Jake in it. He supposed the old adage _you never know what you have until it’s gone_ applied here. He vowed to never let it happen again, if at all possible.

He and Jake went to sit in the living room. Kevin joined them a minute later, having made tea.

“I managed to scare up some blueberries scones," he smiled knowingly, "if either of you would like one."

He handed Jake his mug and an empty plate.

Raymond knew that Kevin had baked those scones specifically for Jake, knowing that he was fond of them. The smile on Jake’s face as he bit into the scone was worth it, though. He and Kevin shared a look that was pleased and relieved. Jake’s presence was taking the edge off.

They drank in a comforting silence for a while, settling into the peaceful lull of having company. Cheddar curled up under Jake’s chair, snuffling happily and rubbing his face against the man’s leg. He was rewarded with a chuckle and a scratch behind the ear.

“Someone’s missed me,” he whispered, mostly to Cheddar.

Kevin cleared his throat, “We all have.” Raymond nodded forlornly.

“Samesies!” cried Jake, doing a halfhearted finger-gun. He was uncomfortable with emotions, always had been. Raymond had grown used to him using humour as a coping mechanism, even relishing it this time. It was just good to see him again.

“Shall we get down to business?” offered Kevin, gesturing Jake.

Jake sighed heavily, setting down his mug. They sat, waiting in silence. He’d speak when he was ready, and they would listen.

“I read your book.” he started.

He looked like he was trying to think of the next thing to say. After a long moment, he spoke again, this time less controlled.

“Wow, I did _not_ expect it to be this hard.” His voice was thick, full of unnamed emotions. “Yikes.”

“Take all the time you need, Jake.” said Raymond.

“We’ll wait as long as you want.” nodded Kevin.

Jake laughed, “I’ve missed this. You two, and being all nice and mature.”

They shared a moment of love and companionship. Kevin cleared away the mugs while Jake gathered himself again.

“I read the book.” Jake reiterated when Kevin returned.

Raymond gave him a pleased nod, followed by a hand gesture that clearly meant _go on._

“Twice.”

Kevin wondered if Jake might need some help organising his thoughts. He decided to help him, prompt some thought.

“And how did you find it?”

“Good,” Jake smiled, “and tempting. I, uh, wanted it.”

He blushed, laughing nervously. He looked terribly young and cute.

Raymond smiled slightly. “That’s positive. We were worried it might be overwhelming.”

“Oh, believe me, it did!” Jake grinned harder, shaking his head, “I felt like one of those guys in Scooby-Doo when the gang unmasks one of the monsters, and it turns out to be, like, the mayor or something.”

Neither of them understood the reference, but they thought understood the feeling.

“Blindsided?” Kevin offered.

“Wrong-footed?” tried Raymond.

“Yeah?” nodded Jake, not really sure. He thought for a moment, landing on a good word.

“Lost.”

They both moved to speak, but Jake waved his arms to silence them.

“And before you apologise - don’t; It’s not you’re fault, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Raymond and Kevin shared a look that said _he knows us well._

“I suppose it was sort of good it caught me by surprise.”

When they looked shocked at this, he explained further.

“I didn’t have any time to try and make myself feel a certain way. I just went with it. It was good.”

“How did you feel, Jake?” asked Kevin.

Jake sighed and shrugged. “Honestly, I’m still not sure. I one-hundred percent want this. I just don’t know why. It’s kinda strange, and I only just learnt about it, and I’m not even sure what it is that I’m wanting. I just know that I do.”

He swallowed, looking away. His whole demeanour had a definite feeling of words left unsaid.

“Jake?” offered Raymond.

“I want it with you guys," Jake finished, an undecipherable look on his face. “You guys as my dads.”

_Scared,_ thought Kevin, _he looks scared._

He reached out for Jake’s hand, a comforting smile breaking free on his face.

“We want that as well.”

Raymond agreed, “As long as you are comfortable, that’s all we want. And if this will make you comfortable, that’s a bonus.”

Jake launched out of his chair for a sudden and bracing hug. It was unexpected, even managing to startle Cheddar out of his stupor, but pleasant none the less. They moved closer together on the armchair to accomodate him, settling into the hug as well as could be expected. Jake was warm and relaxing noticeably in the embrace.If Jake was happy, they’d do everything in their power to keep him that way. And in that moment, all he needed was to be held.

The hug concluded naturally. Jake pulled away and sat back in the armchair across the room. He had calmed down, his face less tense. Some of the stress he had been carrying from the week was already fading.

“Ready to continue?” asked Raymond, smiling as he smoothed out the cushions of the chair.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Excellent,” said Kevin, “Well, I say we discuss how we should move ahead and get acquainted with each other’s needs and expectations.”

_Always so organised,_ mused Raymond lovingly.

Jake looked taken aback, but recovered quickly enough to say, “Getting straight to the point there, Kev!”

“Is there anything wrong with that?” he asked gently. Jake had gone from relatively happy to uncomfortable again quite fast. He wanted to be sure he was still alright.

“No,” he clarified, “It’s just that I’m not really sure what I want to happen next, let alone what my _needs_ are in all this.”

He waved his hands in a gesture akin to Mr Miyagi’s _wax-on-wax-off_ technique - a movement that encompassed the whole situation.

“That’s what we’re here for, Jake.” Raymond reassured. “To help you understand what you want to get out of all of this.”

Jake grunted noncommittally. Kevin changed tack.

“Do you remember chapter twelve of the book?” he asked, picking up his legal pad and flipping through his notes on it.

“Um,” responded Jake, reaching into his satchel and retrieving the book, pages littered with brightly-coloured tabs. “Uh, yeah, the bit where people talked about their experiences?”

“Correct,” praised Kevin. “Did anything in particular stand out to you?”

Jake’s eyes lit up, and he flipped through, reading his notes.

“Yeah, uh, this third guy. Steven. He said he liked not having to think for a bit. Liked having, um, someone else, um, in control, sorta.” Jake began to sound flustered, overwhelmed by his admission, “I thought that sounded,” he paused, “good.”

Kevin flipped to a new page of his pad, drawing up some quick columns to organise their thoughts.

“You have a high-pressure job. Wanting a space where you can surrender that pressure to someone else sounds like a sound expectation.” Kevin noted it down. “For me, I would like a situation where I could be in charge. University students so rarely want to feel as though their lecturer is in control of them, it would be refreshing to feel needed.”

Raymond pitched in, “As a captain, I feel pressure to ensure that the law is always upheld to the highest standard, which can be draining. A low-stakes situation to work on my management style would help me be a better leader.”

“It sounds like our needs line up there, doesn’t it?” joked Jake, sounding more hopeful than he intended.

“It does.” smiled Kevin.

They continued to talk for a long time, establishing clear boundaries. Jake was uncomfortable with the idea of it being a full-time engagement, a sentiment that Raymond and Kevin both felt. They had lives, jobs that were important to them. It wouldn’t suit them well.

There were some points they couldn’t resolve yet. For instance, they couldn’t pin down an age Jake might be comfortable with, or how often they would engage. Those things would come with time.

“I think we should make a clear signal for when we _do_ want to engage in it, however.” noted Kevin.

Raymond nodded, “Absolutely. It would be silly not to.”

“Uh-huh,” agreed Jake, “but what sort of signal? Like a codeword or something?”

A codeword would be an excellent choice, thought Kevin.

“That sounds good, Jake.” he said, scribbling some notes, “What did you have in mind?”

Jake thought for a moment, tossing his head as he decided, “Could I just call you guys ‘Dad’, y’know, if I’m feeling it?”

They agreed.

“There’s no mistaking it.” Raymond ceded.

Jake excused himself to the bathroom, returning looking a little solemn. This time, however, he didn’t need the worries coax out of him.

“You guys know I have major daddy issues.”

They nodded.

“Well, I’m not really sure how they come into play here. I mean, don’t think I’d really be interested if I didn’t have any. But, I’ve never done anything like this. I don’t know how I’ll react.”

Raymond spoke first. He’d had the most experience with Jake’s issues.

“Jake, we’ll deal with things as they become relevant. Anything that makes you uncomfortable, or you're unsure about, we will discuss and handle. Until then, don’t worry.”

He seemed to be pleased with that assessment; The conversation moved on.

Time had passed at its usual rate, but they were all still surprised to find that it had long since gone midnight. They had discussed all they could think to discuss, and it was agreed it was time for bed. Trudging upstairs, they went their seperate ways to settle in.

However, as the husbands were brushing their teeth, Jake appeared in the doorway.

“We don’t have to start right away, though, right?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” nodded Kevin, “It’s a big change, so take all the time you need.”

Jake nodded contentedly.

“Okay, g’night.”

And he slipped away into the guest room, turning in.

Raymond didn’t feel in such a hurry anymore. They had been rushing through the process, trying to get everything done so quickly because they felt they only had one chance, and if they waited, they miss it. It didn’t feel so painful to be waiting when they knew that their sweet boy was just down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have almost reached the end of what I have planned for this story. But never fear, I plan to write more stories in this universe!
> 
> Let me know: what do you think is going to happen? What do you want to see happen?
> 
> Comment, kudos, subscribe, all the good stuff!


	12. in which Holt and Kevin finally become parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only took eleven chapter to get here.

Kevin had wondered what would become of their little world following the night before’s chat.He had no doubts that it _would_ change. He was just unsure of the finer points. They had agreed that they would try a big new thing; they were going to become a family. That simple fact was enough to keep him from worrying. Things would change, but with Jake and Ray on his arms, he was certain that it would change for the better.

And he was right. That morning, Jake followed Ray out the door to walk Cheddar. They ate breakfast together, and Jake slipped Cheddar bites of bacon under the table. He helped Kevin stack the dishes in the sink.He opened the hall window without being asked. It was only when he and Ray left for work that it really hit him.Jake jogged back into the kitchen to give Kevin a hug goodbye. He was integrating himself into their routine - so seamlessly, you would have thought he’d been there for years.

For the most part, life went back to normal. They still had weekly dinners and movie nights. Jake still ran circles around Holt at work, still gave Cheddar scratches behind the ear. The only thing that had really changed was how they talked.

Everyone was still feeling their way around the topic of age play. None of them had any experience. Jake noted that this was both a good and bad thing. With no prior experience, they had no expectations to lower and nothing to compare it to. There was no pressure to perform. On the other hand, they felt as though some experience could have helped them. They felt as though they were flying blind, afraid of messing it up irreparably.

“Don’t worry, " Jake laughed one day. "You can’t be any worse than my dad.”

And he wasn’t wrong. They soon agreed to all let themselves off the hook a little and see what happened. Do it the 'Jake way', as it were. There were still nerves, parts of them clinging to the image of the classic American family, but those parts were distant and quiet. Their family was here. There was no need to try and be something they weren’t.

Finally, the day came.

Jake walked into Holt’s office on a bitterly cold Thursday afternoon. He dropped his last report of the day onto the captain’s desk, smiling cockily as he was congratulated for having the only decent report Holt had seen all day.

“There’s nothing else I need from you, Peralta. You’re free to go home.”

Jake didn’t move.

“Unless there’s something you need from me?” Holt offered.

Jake smiled, “Wondering if you and Kevin were free this Saturday for some family time?”

_It’s happening_.

Holt nodded, “I believe we are free. How does four-thirty sound?”

“Great,” Jake grinned, “Sounds great.”

“I’ll see you then, Jacob.” Holt returned his grin.

Jake glowed as he turned to leave, whispering over his shoulder.

“You too, Dad.”

He was at their doorstep at exactly four-twenty-five that Saturday afternoon, wearing casual clothes and a goofy grin. After all the talk, it was finally time to try out their plan. It felt like one of the biggest moments of his life.

Kevin opened the door, looking fatherly and pleased. He ushered Jake over the threshold and into the living room.

“How are you?” he smiled.

Jake shrugged, “Nervous.”

Raymond entered from the kitchen, “We’ll take it slow.”

“Yeah.” Jake looked at the carpet.

They stood awkwardly as the silence settled. Jake laughed, breaking the tension with a shake of his head.

“I don’t even how what I’m worried about,” he said, “We haven’t done anything yet!”

Raymond walked towards him, “Maybe that’s the problem?”

Jake tilted his head, “Maybe.”

Kevin started for the kitchen. He opened the fridge, retrieving the juice box he had placed there earlier. He started back to the living room, before second guessing himself, and calling out.

“Jacob?”

A muffled response carried through the wall. “Yes?”

“Would you like a drink?”

“Yes?”

It was followed quickly by a quiet _please_ and a quieter _Papa_.

The title made Kevin relax a little. He was glad that they had discussed how they would address each other earlier, as it relieved some of the pressure of going with the flow. He was also pleased at the warm feeling that spread through his chest when he heard it.

He returned to the living room and found Jake sitting on the floor. On the coffee table in front of him was a handful of markers and a colouring book open to a picture of a biologically inaccurate dinosaur.

“Thanks.” whispered Jake, taking the juice box.

Raymond was nowhere to be found, but that was okay. Kevin was sure he was close by. Nevertheless, he would’ve appreciated the backup. He couldn’t think of what to do next. Grasping for straws, he pointed at the colouring book.

“Having fun?” he croaked.

Jake shrugged, picking up a blue marker and uncapping it. Instead of colouring, however, he sat there contemplating it.

“I never, um,” Jake stumbled, “never really coloured much as a kid.”

Raymond returned, looking as out of his depth as the others.

“Well, you can make up for it now.”

He tried for an encouraging smile but ended up with a menacing grimace. Jake stifled a giggle.

“I apologise.” Raymond chuckled, hiding his mouth behind his hand. “I’m not good at this.”

Jake nodded, flashing them both a happy smile, “It’s okay. If it helps, I’m bad at it this, too.”

“Nonsense.” retorted Kevin, defending Jake from his own harsh words.

“Seriously, I am!” Jake laughed, “I can’t even relax enough to stop questioning my colour choices.”

The room filled with slightly nervous laughter that petered out into real laughter. They all looked around, acknowledging the discomfort they were feeling and shaking their heads. It was true - they were fish out of water.

“You’ll be okay,” Kevin soothed, “You’re learning.”

“I suppose we all are.” added Raymond.

Jake looked at Raymond; they shared a knowing smile full of respect for one another and what they were going through. Raymond nodded at him reassuringly, trying to convey the sentiment that so long as they were all trying, they’d be alright. Kevin looked over at his husband with love and awe, understanding that through everything that they would ever do, Ray would always be there to support him. Jake looked at Kevin, watching him go smitten with reverence, and felt the weight of the decision they had embarked on. He realised that he didn’t have to worry about getting it all right because he had his whole support network right here in front of him.

He laughed airily, consciously calming down.

“Hey, um, can we do a reset?” he asked.

Kevin tilted his head - a question.

“Like, I go upstairs and cool off for a second, and then we try again?” he explained. Then after a beat of silence, “I saw it on a documentary about dementia.”

Kevin nodded, looking to Raymond for his take.

“Brilliant idea, Jacob.”

Jake ducked his head and blushed. He stood up to leave the room. Raymond stopped him with a gentle arm, pulling him into a gentle hug.

“We’ll get through this.” he whispered.

“Yeah,” sighed Jake, settling into the hug nicely.

They stood for a second, just touching. Kevin placed a hand on each man’s shoulder. Jake relaxed palpably.

“The, um, the touch?” mumbled Jake into Raymond’s collarbone.

“Yes?” said Raymond, preparing to pull back. I should have asked first.

“S’good,” the younger man whispered, “I think it’s helping.”

Kevin patted his shoulder soothingly, rubbing it back and forth, “With the?”

He trailed off. Jake filled the gaps.

“I feel young, yeah.”

“Thank you for telling us.” smiled Kevin.

“It helps us take care of you better.” agreed Raymond.

They pulled away from the hug, Jake glowing slightly.

“You guys are doing fine,” he shrugged, heading up the stairs to cool off.

Except now, he noticed, he didn’t really feel like he needed to.

Something had changed between the living room and the stairs. In the living room, the whole situation had felt jarring, even a little clinical. It had reminded him of when he had gone to see the child psychologist after his dad left. She’d spoken to him like he was a child when he didn’t _feel_ like a child. It had been off and uncomfortable.

This had been the same, until Holt - he had to consciously stop himself from thinking of him as 'Dad in that moment' - had hugged him. It broke down the weird barrier between them - that distance he felt towards all parental figures. He felt respected, cared for, loved.

He’d felt himself slip a little towards that child headspace the book had talked about. The place where he could just be himself, be a kid, and not have to worry about anything.It was fading somewhat as he stood on the landing, collecting himself, but it was there. And it felt good.

He stood for a few more minutes. He was almost desperate to get back downstairs, but he knew he should take the time to try and prepare. When he couldn’t imagine holding on any longer, he descended the stairs again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah! Cliffhanger! Woo!
> 
> There was more to this chapter, but I realised it was getting a bit long, so I split it. Hope you aren't too mad!
> 
> Anyway, there's more to come. Stay tuned.
> 
> Comment, kudos, and subscribe for more of this kind of thing and I'll see ya when I post next!


	13. in which Raymond, Kevin and Jake play Clue

Jake all but ran down the stairs.

He picked up speed a little, losing a grip on himself, before stopping short at the first landing to try to regain control. He took a few deep breaths, steadying himself. He to walk deliberately slow before his excitement got the best of him, and he started rushing again. Stopping and starting like a remote control car with low batteries, he tried once again to calm himself. But, about halfway down, the bubbly and excited headspace started to return, and he let himself go, running down the stairs like a kid on Christmas morning. He jumped the last step, landing in the foyer.

He jolted slightly at his sudden burst of excitement. _I haven’t felt this free in, well, years._ He stopped dead for a second, just processing the development. Caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t realise Raymond was right there until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Hello, Jacob,” he said warmly.

Feeling all at once excited and shy, Jake smiled, “Hey.”

He leaned in for a hug which was readily supplied.

_He’s affectionate._ Raymond mused, _Very cute._

Kevin could hear them from the kitchen and ducked his head out just in time to see the end of the hug. Jake, with hair flopping around his face wildly, looked pleasantly calm. It was a refreshing turn around from moments before. And wrapped around him was Raymond, with an almost imperceptible grin.

He wandered through, juice box in hand. As Jake pulled back from the hug, he reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair.

Jake barked a surprised laugh. He’d never seen Kevin this playful. He wanted to see it more.

“Hi,” giggled Jake happily.

“Good afternoon,” agreed Kevin, offering the juice box with an outstretched arm.

He then watched Jake hesitate, a look of consideration crossing his features. It was replaced quickly with mischief as he wormed his way underneath the arm and pulled in for a hug, snatching the juice as he did.

The trio dissolved into laughter. Jake gripped Kevin hard around the middle, shaking with giggles.Raymond, hunched over a mere foot away, was laughing hard. Kevin was letting out broken chuckles, still trying to get over the shock of Jake’s boldness.

_He’s going to be an absolute joy to have around,_ He thought, his heart filling with warmth and comfort he hadn’t noticed was missing.

“Well, that’s quite a welcome!” he smiled, giving Jake a squeeze.

The laughter faded easily, the moment coming to a close. Jake found himself hovering up, somewhere between an adult and the boy who had been in his place mere moments ago. He wanted to recapture the moment - but wasn’t sure _how_. If he had been in his adult mind, he might have thought of the situation as awkward and tried to clear the tension. But as a kid, it didn’t feel so much awkward as anticipatory, leaving him feeling a little shy. He felt the need to make himself smaller, ducking a little. This motion only brought him further into the hug, reminding him of who he was with - his parents, the ones that actually wanted him.

He smiled but choked up a little. I haven’t been wanted in years. He tried to take a gentle sip of his juice, something to clear the lump in his throat. Unfortunately, it had been some time since he used a juice box, and his attempt was too enthusiastic, resulting in a loud and obnoxious slurping noise.

It bypassed his crying response, leaving him snorting out a laugh, and with it, some orange juice. This kicked him all back into the laughing gear, Raymond laughing as he reached behind Jake to get him a tissue. He calmly wiped the juice from the young man’s face, smiling all the way, before being pulled into a hug by both his husband and son.

And just like that, the love and excitement were reignited. What had started as a single moment of trust and affection had quickly turned into a stream of goodness, setting a tone that Jake hoped would continue for the rest of his life - or, at least, the rest of the afternoon.

They broke from the hug, an anticipatory calm settling. Jake looked to them both for direction. He’d set the tone for cooperation and mischief and waited for them to make the next move. After all, they were in charge.

“So, Jacob,” lead Raymond, “What would you like to do today?”

Jake shrugged. He really didn’t want to have to make too many choices. That became apparent by his facial expression of complete and utter dismay.

Not wanting Jake to get overwhelmed and have the situation get out of hand, they knew they needed to close the open-ended question and offer him some options.

“Well, we could do some colouring?” offered Kevin.

Jake shook his head. The previous attempt was bad enough. He didn’t feel like revisiting it too quickly.

“We could watch a movie?” tried Raymond. He wasn’t surprised when this was also shot down; they didn’t have many kid-friendly options.

Kevin thought hard. From their earlier conversations and Jake’s reaction to affection, he decided they needed to do something with a distinct feeling of family attached. Quick thinking brought him to a moment of revelation. He even snapped his fingers, partly to gain everyone’s attention and partly for comedic effect.

“How about a board game?” he offered. Jake lit up but pretended to consider it for a moment.

“Yes, please.”

Kevin smiled widely at him, “Excellent choice.”

He extended a hand to both his son and his husband, and they took the journey to the living room together. There, a lovely little antique cabinet lived. It contained all of their board games. They had been a mutual interest that had bonded Raymond and Kevin in the early days of their relationship, and over the years the has amassed quite a collection. The look on Jake’s face when he saw it was priceless.

“Wow,” Jake whispered, a little of his adult self peeking out of his eyes as he examined the cupboard.

Stacked into meticulous columns were tens of colourful boxes, organised by category. The far left housed a column of strategy games, and then a column of games of chance, with the abstract strategy games filed in-between; Raymond always argued that _Qwirkle_ was more luck-of-the-draw than strategy, but Kevin suspected that was because he always lost. They had a whole shelf divided into games for parties, with well-curated subsections, each with a small white label to determine their categories: _bluffing games, mystery games, team and cooperative, short games._ A basket on the bottom shelf housed all their card games, while the rest of the space had been cleared of games they rarely played, ready for whenever they purchased their next game.

It was truly an overwhelming sight. As if watching an episode of _Hoarders_ , Jake wasn’t sure where to look first. He hadn’t even heard of half the games, and he wasn’t sure he had the emotional real estate to learn a whole new set of rules, especially in this new situation.

His eyes fell onto a box that he knew well. _Clue_ , his favourite board game, and one that he hadn’t gotten to play in years. He’d played it with a friend in college, fell in love with it, and then spent the better part of his adult life trying to find someone to play it with. Unfortunately, most of his friends weren’t interested. Even when he got married, Amy had reluctantly played it on a couple of occasions, but eventually confessed to hating it. It was his favourite game, but he never felt like he could really ask someone to give up the time to get through it.

Today, though? He had a good feeling about his chances.

“Can we play _Clue,_ please?” he smiled, looking up at his dads. They exchanged an approving look.

“A boy with excellent taste.” smiled Kevin, pulling the box out of the cabinet and handing it to him. “How about you two go and set it up, and I’ll get us some snacks.”

“Sounds excellent,” said Raymond. He reached across to Jake, holding his hand and leading him to the couch. Jake’s heart felt warm as he took the hand and shuffled across to the coffee table.

Raymond could tell that Jake was excited by the way he placed each of the weapon tokens meticulously into the room where it ‘made sense.’ He had a relaxed sort of concentration, all the brilliance he had when solving crimes without all the stress. He wondered if this was how Jake had behaved as a child, and if so, how Roger had ever left. He shelved that thought for another time. _Just enjoy the time you have together. Everything else can wait._

Kevin returned with a plate of cheese and crackers as they were finishing shuffling the cards. Jake couldn’t contain his smile as he slid the solution to the game into the envelope. He was excited but in a relaxed kind of way. A big, boyish grin spread across his face, infectiously joyful. Raymond and Kevin couldn’t help but smile themselves.

They decided that Jake would go first, citing the rulebook saying ‘the youngest player must start the game: Jake, of course, knew this wasn’t true, but it made him smile. He took the dice and Miss Scarlet and made for the Hall.

Accusations flew as each man worked to solve the murder. They speculated, exonerated, and gathered evidence. Scandalised by the idea that he could be the murderer, Kevin spent the next round desperately trying to prove his innocence. 

“Kevin, it’s like I don’t even know you,” Raymond monotoned, “How could you do such a thing?”

“It couldn’t have been me! I didn’t even know Mister Black until _we started playing the game_!”

“Admitting to killing a man you didn’t even know?” Raymond gasped.

Jake was so lost in giggles that he almost forgot to take his turn. On Kevin’s next turn, he made an accusation designed specifically to prove that he was _not guilty_ ; he was not, Jake had the Professor Plum card in his hand, but his dad’s reaction had been so outrageous that Jake wished he had been.

It took them forty-five minutes to get through the round. Jake, savouring the experience, delayed his victory by a few turns just so he could watch Kevin jump Professor Plum from square to square with unnecessary flair, and listen to Raymond announce his accusation as if he were interrogating a suspect. He loved every minute. He did, however, wonder if they were letting him win. The answer to that question was a resounding _no._

The truth of the matter was simple: Raymond and Kevin were the worst Clue players in New York. Raymond enjoyed the process, but often forget to mark down his clue cards on the sheet, leading to confusion down the line when he thought he had solved the case. He was also guilty of getting lost in the game and abandoning his sheet altogether, which was not exactly a winning strategy.

Kevin, on the other hand, stuck meticulously to his sheet. He enjoyed the research and investigation aspect, and often tried to keep track of his sources, but inevitably forgot what all his symbols meant a few turns in, and had to start over. As hard as they tried, they couldn’t have beaten Jake.

He threw his arms in the air as he unveiled the solution - Reverend Green, with the Revolver, in the Hall. He received a round of applause from Raymond. He smiled a disappointed smile: if only the game never had to end. Luckily, Kevin picked up on his look.

“Rematch!” he declared, “I believe there has been a miscarriage of justice! I demand we investigate again.”

There was laughter galore as they reset the board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clue is my favourite board game, and I'll admit to basing Jake's experiences on my own. None of my family like the game, so I rarely get to play it. Maybe this quarantine will help with that?
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone following this story, it's always great to see how many of you enjoy it. Another chapter is on the way (this one super long, I had to cut it in half!), so stay tuned.
> 
> Comment, kudos, subscribe, all the good stuff!


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